


Rotten Leather

by KatzRoad



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Blood, Demonic Possession, Gen, Gore, Multi, Other, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9598526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatzRoad/pseuds/KatzRoad
Summary: Clay is left behind to deal with Chase Young as the other monks help Kimiko when she's pitted against Wuya in a showdown. Despite her concerns, they insist the cowboy will be all right and sure enough, Clay comes back to the temple seemingly unscathed. Except for one little problem.





	1. Chapter 1

“Xiaolin Showdown!” That’s all it took. Just a single phrase to flip the world upside down.

Almost immediately there was a rumble, as though a stampede was drawing close, and then the ground began to heave. Ping Pong struggled to keep a firm stance as the sand underneath him jiggled like an exquisite Parisian gelatin. He teetered left and right toward Raimundo, who caught the young monk when he tripped.

The shaking grew even harder and Ping Pong’s ears perked to sound of rock splintering. He turned to his right and then gasped at the sight of a massive fissure that was bearing down on the monks. They braced themselves for the inevitable impact, which would then plunge him and his friends into a sandy abyss.

But the sudden drop at their feet never came; Raimundo opened his eyes and saw the fissure had splintered around them, creating a lopsided circle with them in the center. He wanted to sigh in relief – if it weren’t for the fact that their piece of ground suddenly lurched into the sky. That made him yelp instead and the monk pulled Ping Pong close as the edges crumbled away.

Dojo poked his head out of Raimundo’s robes and then watched as they soared into the air, the ruins underneath them growing smaller with each passing second. Ping Pong pushed his frames back into place, his lip quivered a little at the long fall someone could suffer from their vantage point. His attention then flicked to what was happening in front of him.

Columns rose one after the other until the whole colonnade was laid out before them. The triumphal arch served as the finish line, where the Shen Gong Wu shimmered on top as the grand prize. At the midway point was the tetrapylon and further from that was the starting line, where the showdown participants stood on their respective columns.

Donning her Shoku Warrior armor, Kimiko exchanged a glance with Omi behind her and then spat Wuya a glare to the left. She turned right when hearing Raimundo whistle, him waving at her once he caught her attention. “You got this girl! Don’t let that evil hag whip your butt!” he called out.

She raised a thumb at him and the monk turned to his friend. “Omi! Don’t let her ‘female willies’ deceive you!” Raimundo teased. But really, there was a lot at stake in this showdown, so mistakes couldn’t be made.

“Fear not Raimundo! I have grown considerably since our last encounter. Wuya will be unable to blindside me with her willies!” Omi puffed his chest out in confidence. He turned his bravado toward the Heylin witch. “Prepare for a most humiliating defeat!” he pointed.

“Gong Yi Tanpai!” It was like the starting gun of a derby. Seconds later, they were off to the races.

Wuya was first to act, jumping from one column to the next, followed by Kimiko and Omi two steps behind. Ping Pong couldn’t help but feel giddy; two legendary Shoku Warriors pitted against the great Heylin witch. How privileged he was to have a first-hand account of history in the making!

The monk cheered when Omi pulled out the Orb of Tornami and sent water hurtling toward Wuya. His eyes flicked to Kimiko, who overtook her distracted opponent to become the lead in their race. A bold move that complimented an even bolder plan, which he was certain the two must’ve formulated together.

Within a matter of minutes, Kimiko was coming up the tetrapylon, Omi leaping to close the gap between them, and Wuya huffing dead last. Ping Pong turned his attention further ahead where the triumphal arch stood and where the Wu looked ripe for the taking. “Ruby of Ramses!” he whipped back to the foray and then gasped.

Wuya hauled a chunk of stone from the sands and then slammed it into a column. The impact sent it crashing into its neighbour, which then smashed into its neighbour as well. Omi glanced over his shoulder to see columns falling away and he kicked his heels to an even faster run to escape.

However, columns were falling much faster than he could move, and it didn’t take long for the stonework underneath his feet to wobble. Ping Pong watched in horror as the column toppled and Omi fell with it. Raimundo cried the monk’s name as he vanished into the clouds of dust.

Kimiko skidded to a halt at the commotion behind her and then retreated several steps. She peered over the edge of her column with a worried frown while Dojo and Raimundo shouted for Omi. But the monk did not peer for long, as suddenly, a massive shadow eclipsed her.

The shouting ceased the moment he saw the boulder and Raimundo felt his blood run cold when it smashed his friend’s vantage point to smithereens. He surged forward with the intention of leaping into the showdown but Ping Pong grabbed his hand and tugged him back. He turned to glare at him, chest heaving with fear and anger, but the monk assured him to take another look.

Sure enough, when the dust cleared Raimundo could see Kimiko alive and well, dangling from a Corinthian capital. Grip loose at best, she inhaled a sharp breath and then mustered the strength to hoist an arm over the edge. No sooner were her legs left kicking the air did another shadow loom overhead, laughter following not too far behind.

“I swear, you children are making this _too_ easy,” Wuya squatted to Kimiko’s eye level and tucked some hair behind her ear. She then gave the monk’s nose a light tap. “I thought a showdown with Shoku Warriors would be more exciting than _this_.” she sighed.

The witch rose to her feet and then jumped to the next column. With a growl, Kimiko scrambled to her feet and watched as Wuya laughed her way to the tetrapylon. “I’ll give **you** excitement!” she fumed.

If there’s one thing to be foolish of, it would be underestimating Kimiko Tohomiko. Leaping after her opponent, she was already conjuring a plan that would take down Wuya. All she needed to do was to wait for the right moment and then the monk could pull the rug underneath her.

Dojo wrung his tail; the finish line was coming fast and the gap between the women couldn’t be any wider. Unless she had an ace up her sleeve, there was little chance Kimiko could overtake Wuya. “I can’t bear to look! Tell me how it ends!” he retreated into Raimundo’s robes.

Fists clenched, a sharp whine made Ping Pong’s throat reverberate as he watched the showdown come to conclusion. But unlike his dragon counterpart, the monk still clung to hope that Kimiko will be the one to triumph. She had to triumph – she was a Xiaolin Dragon after all!

“You can do it Kimiko! You’re so much better than her!” he cried. Raimundo joined his enthusiasm and the pair hollered as though it were the final minutes of a tied game. “Yeah you got this girl! That old bat has got nothin’ on you!” the monk whooped.

Kimiko blinked the sweat from her eyes, her heart beating faster than a hummingbird. The jubilant cheering from the boys was helping starve off whatever doubt that settled in her stomach. She could do this, she could win – she **will** win.

At last, there came the opportunity to put her plan into motion; Wuya made the final leap toward the triumphal arch. Leaping a few seconds later, the monk counted the columns below and then pulled out the Star Hanabi. “Star Hanabi! Shoku Mars Fire!” Kimiko yelled.

Flames erupted from the Wu’s gem and then rapidly surged toward the witch. But instead of roasting her, Wuya watched in shock as the flames crashed into columns instead, causing them collapse. “Kimiko!” Raimundo gritted his teeth as dust billowed in consequence and swallowed everything.

Ping Pong clasped a hand over his mouth and felt his stomach drop. It was shocking turn of events, and neither one could see who claimed victory amid the clouds of dust. The uncertainly troubled Raimundo to a good deal and he swallowed thickly; who won the showdown?!

The pair shielded their faces when the dust swept over them, the wind hissing in their ears. Once it had abated, Raimundo looked to see that everything was back to normal. No monumental damage to the colonnade, no signs of his friends or Wuya, _nothing_ – it was like he’d imagined the whole thing.

“Kimiko!” Raimundo ran the moment he spotted her. She was standing alone with her hand down, Omi nowhere to be seen. “What happened?! Are you okay?!” he shook Kimiko by the shoulders.

“Raimundo, _I’m sorry_ ,” Kimiko sighed, as though defeated, and then looked Raimundo in the eye. Her lips then curled into a big smile and she raised her hand to show off the Shen Gong Wu. “I’m sorry you had to see Wuya’s butt get whooped like that!” she laughed.

Raimundo blinked a couple of times before he laughed as well and twirled the monk around. Late to the celebration, Ping Pong couldn’t help but sigh in relief when seeing his friend set Kimiko down. Dojo poked his head out of Raimundo’s collar and then leapt to give Kimiko a big hug, giving her brow a few smooches.

“You had us worried girl! Give me a heart attack why don’t cha?” Raimundo gave the other a light punch to the shoulder. Kimiko brushed it aside with another laugh and then gestured Dojo to cool it with the smooching. “I’m sorry, I just I knew if I didn’t do somethin’, Wuya would’ve won for sure.” she explained.

“Speaking of the old bat, where is she? And where’s _Omi_ for the matter?” Dojo pointed out. That cut the celebrations right then and the monks looked around for any sign of the two. Fortunately, they didn’t have to search for long, because the answer was under their feet – _literally_.

Ping Pong watched as the sand at his feet bulged and then stumbled back as Omi’s head popped out. Seconds later the monk found himself riding Wuya’s shoulders when she clawed her way out of the ground. “Get your stubby little legs off me!” the witch snarled.

Hitting the ground, Omi jumped back to his feet and frowned. Wuya turned to see that she was now boxed in by four Xiaolin monks. “I’ll have to admit. It **was** a mistake to underestimate you children. Especially _you_.” she looked to Kimiko with a smile.

“Ha! Instead of **me** being worried about _your_ female willies, **you** should have been worried about _Kimiko’s_ this whole time!” Omi pointed with glee. The irony made him laugh. “How is that for a most humiliating defeat?” he sneered.

“A defeat? Yes, I’ll acknowledge that. But Omi _my dear_ ,” Wuya stepped toward him with a smile, hands buried into her robes. The monk gasped when she pulled out the Shroud of Shadows. “You of _all_ people should know with defeat comes a thousand victories.” she cackled.

In one swoop, the witch vanished into thin air. Omi kicked the sand in consequence; he could’ve stopped her right then! Curse his good listening skills! “At least she does not have the Shen Gong Wu…” he grumbled.

“Speaking of Wu, Dojo do you know what this one is?” Kimiko asked. She lowered her hand when Ping Pong tugged on her arm, so that he could see it as well. To them, it looked like one expensive piece of jewellery.

“It’s the Amulet of Zenobia. Appropriate we found it here of all places,” the dragon chuckled. Raimundo rubbed his chin at the Wu and then took a hold it himself. “The amulet is powerful by itself, but combined with another like-minded Wu, well, we all know the answer to _that_.” he said.

“Good thing Kimiko was here to stop Wuya!” Ping Pong clapped. Omi nodded in agreement and gave his friend a pat on the back. “As Clay would have said, you roped her Dalmatians good!” he grinned.

She was about to correct his mangled slang when it suddenly hit her. Kimiko blinked a few times in confusion and then looked around; she couldn’t believe she hadn’t notice until _now_. “Guys, where is Clay…?” she asked slowly.

“Him? Oh don’t worry, he’s been dealing with Chase.” Raimundo waved off. Kimiko’s eyes widened in shock. “Ah yes, I like to see Chase Young uproot a mighty oak like our friend.” Omi smiled.

“Hold up, _hold up_ ,” Kimiko interrupted before Ping Pong could put in his say. She took a deep breath and then looked at Raimundo, who noticed her brow creasing into a frown. “You guys… left Clay by himself… _to deal with Chase Young?!_ ” she roared.

Ping Pong jumped between Raimundo and Kimiko before she could deck him with a superheated fist. The monk was held back even further when Omi grabbed her arm. “Kimiko! It is not Raimundo’s fault! Clay seemed to be content when we left him!” he argued.

“Kimiko please! You must understand! It was the only way we could’ve arrived in Palmyra on time. You would’ve been facing Wuya alone if we stayed behind with Clay.” Ping Pong rationalized. He watched as the other lowered her fist, the flames dispersing moments later.

“You’re giving Chase too much credit here,” Raimundo cleared his throat and then stepped from behind Ping Pong. Kimiko crossed her arms at him in a huff. “Need I remind us all that Clay’s like, _ginormous and all_ , but seriously competent too?” the monk pointed out.

“Raimundo is right, we should have more faith in our large friend.” Omi nodded. Ping Pong watched as Kimiko looked at them both and he tugged on his collar. The tension was starting to make his stomach sour.

“I’m sure everything will be all right.” he chuckled nervously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite what Ping Pong says, things won't be all right! 
> 
> At least everyone can enjoy Kimiko whooping butt in the showdown between her and Wuya!
> 
> But seriously, things will go downhill from here. 
> 
> Feedback is welcomed!


	2. Chapter 2

Raimundo chewed his lip and then ran a hand through his brown locks. Every so often, he turned from his pacing and look toward the orange sky, where the sun had dipped behind the mountains. A cold breeze swept through and he shivered in consequence.

“Raimundo,” the monk turned to see Omi approaching him with a blanket in his hands. He offered it to him, whom then gladly draped it over his shoulders. “Perhaps you should come inside.” Omi suggested.

“No way. Not until everyone comes back.” he argued. Kimiko had been insistent about looking for Clay right away, despite the other’s assurances. Ping Pong offered to help with her search and the pair flew off with Dojo before Raimundo could even wish them good luck.

Omi gave a silent nod and then tucked his hands into his robes. The breeze was picking up strength; leaves started to litter the temple grounds. But unlike his friend riddled with goosebumps, the monk seemed almost unperturbed by the cold.

“Do not worry Raimundo. Have faith instead,” he finally spoke. Raimundo stopped his fretting in place and turned to his friend. “I am most certain our friends will be all right.” Omi smiled.

Raimundo smiled until he’d remembered how they got here in the first place. Running past the trees and through the undergrowth, Chase appeared out of the blue, the boys coming to a screeching halt when seeing his conceited grin. There was a brief but intense stare down until Clay stepped forward and cracked his knuckles.

Assuming the cowboy wanted to confront Chase _alone_ , Raimundo gave a chuckle and then reached for Clay’s shoulder. Telling him not be too rough, as he wanted a piece of Chase for later, the monk slapped his back and then ran ahead. As Ping Pong and Omi followed suit, he glanced back to see Clay frowning.

But again, Raimundo assumed Clay was frowning at the warlord as opposed to _himself_. Sure, there was some doubt leaving him behind to fend off Chase, but he immediately squashed them. His friend could handle this; Clay was a mountain in leather boots and the last time Raimundo checked, it was difficult to overpower _a freaking mountain_.

In the growing darkness that was dusk, Omi spotted Dojo appearing over the horizon. While he sighed in relief, Raimundo felt his stomach churn with dread. For some reason – despite his friend’s elated chatter – he couldn’t help but shake the feeling that Dojo was short one cowboy.

The monks ran to the courtyard where the dragon had landed. Sure enough, Raimundo’s fears were confirmed when he bolted through the gates and counted only three people. On the right, Kimiko stood with her back turned, in the middle Dojo had shrunk to his normal size, and Ping Pong remained silent on the left.

“Kimiko, Ping Pong,” Omi huffed as he finally caught up with Raimundo. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, thankful that his friend didn’t run too fast, and then straightened his back. “Where is Clay? I do not see him anywhere.” he panted.

His question caused Ping Pong to flinch and Dojo to wring his tail. The two exchanged a somber look before the Dragon of Wood made a hesitant step forward. He swallowed thickly and then untucked his arms, presenting the cowboy’s most cherished hat, where four, sharp claws had ripped the crown right open.

Omi blinked a couple of times and then shrunk from the hat. On the other hand, Raimundo stepped forward and snatched it from Ping Pong’s hands to eyeball it in a skeptical manner. But no matter how skeptical he was, the truth remained the same; this was the same hat Raimundo almost poured ten gallons of milk into.

“That’s the only thing we could find,” Raimundo looked up to Kimiko. Her back was still turned and he noticed her hand curling into a fist. “We searched the whole island of Great Britain, and that’s **all** we could scrape up.” she said.

Raimundo scratched the back of his head and turned to give Omi a worried look. The monks walked over to comfort their friend, but when Raimundo reached to place his hand on her shoulder, Kimiko immediately slapped it back. “I can’t believe you guys!” she turned to face them.

“You just **left** him like that?! _What’s the matter with you?!_ ” Kimiko yelled. The boys retreated a step from her sweltering heat. “Hey! It’s not like we did it on _purpose!_ We just thought—” Raimundo was cut short by a finger shoved right into his face.

“No! You didn’t think, you just assumed! You’re _always_ doing that with Clay!” the monk growled. For a moment, she covered her face and then slammed her fists down. “I mean, _God_ – neither of you have the decency to give him **any** respect!” Kimiko accused.

“Like when you’re not busy **lecturing** him for being a simpleton,” Omi retreated another step when Kimiko turned her wrath onto him before redirecting it back to Raimundo. “You’re constantly pelting him with jokes that go **too** far! That’s all he is to you guys! Just one big joke!” she hollered.

“Well guess what?! The joke’s on us, because Clay is **gone!** ” Kimiko threw her hands up. She dropped them moments later, balling them into shaky fists. _“Our friend is gone…”_ the monk softly repeated.

Ping Pong clutched his stomach and then swallowed the lump in his throat. Although his friend spared him the scathing rant, her words were consequential to him none the less. While he didn’t know Clay as long as Raimundo and Omi did, the monk was guilty of leaving him behind too.

He opened his mouth several times to speak, but he couldn’t find anything decent to say. Ping Pong turned to Dojo beside him and hoped the dragon could offer some guidance. Unfortunately, he was too busy wringing his tail clean of scales, which left him in the same boat as everyone else.

“We uh, we shouldn’t lose hope.” Ping Pong spoke, finding his voice again. There was a pause; he glanced at everyone and waited for a reaction. When there was none, he took as the initiative to keep moving forward. “Chase Young must’ve captured him. I’m sure he’s being kept alive.” he suggested.

“Oh shut up **Boris!** What do _you_ know about Chase?!” Kimiko snapped. Ping Pong immediately fell silent and clasped a hand over his mouth. It had been a while since someone had addressed him by his real name, more so in such a livid tone.

A hand suddenly grabbed Kimiko by the arm. When she turned to see who’d grabbed her, Raimundo was there, and he looked even madder than she was. “Hey! You leave him alone! At least he’s _trying_ to be helpful! Unlike someone who’s blaming everyone **but** herself!” he growled.

Kimiko wrestled her arm out of his grasp and retreated a step. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” she retorted, as if she didn’t know what Raimundo meant. “Oh come _on_ , everything you said about us could be apply to you too! So don’t you **dare** act like you’re exempt from this!” the monk shouted.

“I mean shit, at least neither of _us_ got the Mosaic Scale broken,” Raimundo pointed out. Kimiko’s skin bristled at the mentioning of her blunder, which her friend moved in to exploit for his advantage. “Yeah, that was all **your** fault. You just assumed Clay would be fine with that, like what’s a little _demonic possession_ between friends, am I right?” he laughed bitterly.

“So you can take that faux outrage _and shove it up your_ —” Raimundo didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because Kimiko had slapped him right in the face. Dojo gasped and then ducked behind Ping Pong. Omi stumbled back, eyes widened in shock at seeing his friend strike another.

Raimundo staggered back, stunned into silence. He reached to touch his cheek and then caught the blood dripping from his lip. Recoiling at the sight of his palm growing red, the monk flicked his eyes up to Kimiko.

She was trembling, her breath short, and the hand that slapped him seemed just as stunned. Her face was torn between the aghast she had for Raimundo’s chastising and then at herself for slapping him. Kimiko could feel herself starting to choke up and she pushed past her friends, because she did not want to shed tears in a moment like this.

_“Well fine! Fuck you too!”_ Raimundo screamed as she ran into the temple. Choked up himself, he turned to storm off in another direction. His eyes were red and he blinked the tears that clouded his vision.

Ping Pong hiccupped, feeling his own throat closing as well, and then turned to Omi. The monk’s eyes were closed and with a hand on his brow, it looked as though he was disappointed in what had just transpired. “Omi…?” he whispered.

But that disappointment, which made the monk seem composed, was just a façade he’d propped up until now. Ping Pong watched as his role model dropped his hand in a choke as well. “Ping Pong, I’m,” Omi shook his head and then turned to leave too.

Ping Pong reached for him but it was too late. He stood there with his arm stretched out and watched as Omi walked into the temple with his head down. It dropped moments later, which Dojo slithered over to cup his hand.

“C’mon kiddo, let’s get you inside.” the dragon tugged a little. Ping Pong nodded, feeling a tear run down his cheek, and let himself be ushered into the temple. It was about this time he’d noticed the wind; no longer a cold breeze, but an icy bluster that made his skin break out in goosebumps.

* * *

Ping Pong blinked a couple of times and then sprung forward. For a moment or so, he sat upright in bed and _listened_. In the quiet hum of the night, between the soft breathing of his friends and the curtains dancing to a slight breeze, he could hear footsteps.

Someone was inside the temple. Ping Pong reached for his glasses and made a glance to Omi tucked in bed, then to Dojo curled up on the window sill. As the footsteps began to trickle away, the monk swung his legs over the side and then hopped off his bed.

He pushed aside the curtain that separated their room with the hallway and found nothing but darkness. Ping Pong turned back for a moment to look at his friends still asleep. He then looked forward and after taking a deep breath, he plunged into the darkness.

The monk knew he should’ve woken the others first; every horror movie he’s seen made it clear that bad things were going to happen when someone investigated a strange noise alone. But it was the dead of night, and people didn’t need their hard-earned sleep to be disturbed. Furthermore, Ping Pong felt that everyone’s emotions were still volatile after the slap incident.

Creeping through the shadows, Ping Pong could hear the footsteps grow louder as he drew nearer. At the same time, he noticed the they were slow and clumsy – not the kind of steps Jack Spicer, certified evil genius would make. Of course, if said evil genius was sneaking around the temple, he’d would’ve woken everyone up from his insistent need to gloat aloud.

Ping Pong turned the corner and then stopped; his eyes dropped to gawk at the large, black footsteps that smeared the stonework underneath him. They soon rose from the floor to grow wide at the massive figure that was lumbering away. “You there! Stop right this instant!” the monk cried.

The figure paused for a second, their neck twisting to see him. By then Ping Pong had shifted into a fighting stance and gritted his teeth when the other turned to face him. But as the figure started to drag their feet his way, he found his jaw dropping in disbelief.

He recognized those heavy footsteps, that imposing height, and those broad shoulders. The monk dropped his stance all together and then walked a few steps forward. _“Clay…?”_ he sniffled.

Relief washed over him like a tidal wave; Ping Pong couldn’t stop the tears welling in the corner of his eyes. After so many hours of searching and then agonizing about his well-being, here was _Clay_ , limping toward him. “Clay! _Oh God_ , we thought you were…” he trailed off, too relieved for words.

Yet as his friend hobbled over to him, Ping Pong started to become aware of other things. Such as the dripping that accompanied Clay’s footsteps – footsteps that were _mushy_ , the more he listened to them. His face crinkled as something _putrid_ waft into his nose and caused him to step back.

The smell grew even more foul as the cowboy drew closer. Ping Pong watched as he stumbled a little, his bones popping in places they _shouldn’t_ be. “Clay…?” the monk retreated another step.

With the final drag of his feet, Clay stood before him, doubled over and out of breath. But his lack of good posture and troubled breathing were not the reasons for Ping Pong to shrink away from him again. “Oh God, Clay, _what happened…?_ ” he looked from head to toe, unsure what he should be horrified with first.

He first acknowledged the fact that Clay looked as though someone had beaten him to death with a tire iron, and then ran over him with a lawn mower – _repeatedly_. His attention then turned to linger on Clay’s battered face, before dropping to boggle at one laceration that sliced his shoulder open. Finally, Ping Pong settled on the black and viscous fluid which bled in places where the cowboy should be drawing blood.

“P-Ping Pong,” the cowboy hiccupped and black fluid spilled from his lips to trail down his chin in long streaks. He shook his head then, a clammy hand reaching wipe his mouth clean. “S-Sorry about that partner, I-I ain’t feelin’ so good…” Clay wheezed.

“Clay, what happened?” Ping Pong swallowed his fear and then stepped closer. But he refrained from touching his friend as he didn’t know if that would be a good idea or not. “Did Chase Young injure you? Was it him and Shadow? You know what, I should go wake the others.” the monk insisted.

Clay nodded slowly at first but when hearing Ping Pong’s suggestion, a frown creased his swollen brow and shook his head. He muttered no several times and then turned his back to the other. “D-Don’t do that partner. I-I don’t need anyone.” he huffed.

The cowboy wobbled a few steps and then collapsed against the wall in another coughing fit. Ping Pong’s eyes grew at the sight of Clay’s back, where a familiar set of claws had ripped through the vest and skin underneath. “… Then what do you need?” Ping Pong twiddled his thumbs.

Clay gave a grunt about food and then began to shamble toward to the kitchen. He was followed by Ping Pong seconds later, who wanted to assist his wounded friend wherever possible. The monk even took one of his clammy hands to lead him instead.

Four steps into their walk and Clay’s hand slipped from his grasp. But when Ping Pong glanced over his shoulder to see if he’d been walking too fast, or Clay had been too slow, he saw the skin missing from the cowboy’s knuckles and three of his fingers. He found it seconds later when opening his palm and never has Ping Pong thrown something to the floor so quickly.

Like the rest of the temple, the kitchen was quiet until Clay and Ping Pong stepped inside. Clay immediately went for the refrigerator while Ping Pong walked around the streaks of black his boots were treading. At this point his arms had been pinched raw; so much for finding comfort knowing this was all just a nightmare he’d be waking up from soon.

“Clay,” Ping Pong inched over to the cowboy sticking halfway out of the refrigerator. He chewed his lip, making a glance to the door behind him, and then to his friend scarfing down a month’s worth of groceries. “You’re seriously injured. I really think I should—” he looked from twiddling his thumbs and screamed.

Clay was choking; he jerked back from the refrigerator, slamming his head on a shelf as he rose, and twisted around so that Ping Pong could see him struggling for air. Running to his aid, the monk tried to get him into the Heimlich maneuver. But a large hand pushed him back and Ping Pong watched as his friend continued to gag.

As he gagged, black fluid welled in the cowboy’s eyes and then spilled down his cheeks. His nostrils were soon overwhelmed with the viscous substance as well. It looked as though Clay was suffocating to death on his own body fluids, complete with the last, desperate gasps for air.

There was a painful groan before Clay snapped his head down and vomited. Splattering onto the floor was something even thicker than what oozed from his tattered skin. Furthermore, it _bubbled_ as if on the griddle, and then stretched like a summer weed across the stonework.

Terrified beyond belief, Ping Pong bolted out of the kitchen and down the hallway. He did not scream, he did not yell. He just **ran** , as fast as he could, from the horror he’d just witnessed.

But no matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t get the image out of his mind. Clay doubled over in pain, looking more like a rotting corpse than a friend, eyes wide as dinner plates when he looked at Ping Pong. A hand reached for him and between his wheezing, the cowboy uttered a single sentence.

**_“Help me.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that chapter was quite a ride. 
> 
> I mean, it was a lot of work too, especially the second half, as I didn't think there wasn't enough horror and gore. I actually considered breaking this into two chapters at one point, but I felt that would've disrupted the flow of the story. In the end though, after all the time put into it, I think it came out nice.
> 
> Feedback is welcomed!


	3. Chapter 3

Kimiko woke to the sound of her phone buzzing. Groggily, she reached over to the nightstand and pulled her phone under the sheets. “Hello…?” she yawned.

“Kimiko it’s me, Keiko. Did I wake you up?” Keiko asked. The monk rubbed the last bit of sleep from her eyes and then sat up. “Yeah, but don’t worry. What’s up?” Kimiko tucked some hair behind her ear.

“I’m doing fine, but what about you? I got a bunch of texts from you last night.” Keiko paused to take a sip from her coffee. She then settled down on the couch and reached for her remote. “Sorry I didn’t reply, I was swamped with paperwork.” she explained.

Kimiko blinked a couple of times in confusion and then realized what her friend was talking about. She doubled over with a groan before sitting upright again, a hand coming to pinch the bridge of her nose. “… Oh, **that**. Listen, I’m sorry about **that**.” she apologized.

Ugh, no wonder she felt like garbage this morning; all that yelling, all that anger, a headache was certain to develop after it all subsided. The monk felt embarrassed letting her temper run rampant and she knew there was going to be a lot of apologizing today. “—Business?” Keiko broke in.

“Wait, what?” Kimiko raised an eyebrow. Keiko took another sip and then sat her coffee down. “ _I said_ , what’s the problem? Family business? Xiaolin business?” she repeated with an eye roll.

“Xiaolin business, and it’s a **long** story.” the monk replied. She didn’t want to go into excessive detail, so she emphasized the length. “But I’m okay. Nothing bruised or battered.” Kimiko reassured.

Keiko nodded as she flipped through channels on the television. She paused for a moment to catch the forecast, which anticipated rain showers for the evening, and then turned back to her friend. “All right, just give me a holler whenever you need to talk.” she reminded.

“Thanks, I will. See you later Keiko.” Kimiko smiled. Once her friend hung up, the monk swung her legs over and jumped out of bed. She made a step over to her vanity and fastened herself a ponytail.

She knew the first order of business was apologizing to the boys. Ping Pong and Omi shouldn’t be much a problem, the main concern being Raimundo, especially since she slapped him. Whether he accepted her apology with open arms or shoved her back with a hiss, the monk was determined to apologize nonetheless because it was the right thing to do.

After a quick touch-up, Kimiko turned from the mirror and walked over to her curtained door. She pulled the curtain aside and gasped when seeing Raimundo on the opposite side. He seemed just as surprised to see her; blinking a few times, he lowered the hand that planned on knocking the doorway and then retreated a step.

Both said their names in unison and that brought an awkward chuckle between them. Raimundo cleared his throat and then gestured his friend to speak first. Kimiko stared at him for a moment, her attention flicking between his face and his bandaged cheek before stepping up to the plate.

“Raimundo, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lashing out at you.” Kimiko apologized. She clutched her arm before continuing. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was totally out of line. I uh, I hope I didn’t burn you too badly with that slap?” her eyes dropped to his cheek again.

“Oh this? Don’t lose any sleep over it,” Raimundo patted his cheek a couple of times. He then waved the other off with a grin. “I mean, yeah it hurts, but it’s no different from the slaps my aunts would give me for acting like a fool. But I am sorry though – for bringing up skeletons in the closet.” he shrugged a little.

“Don’t apologize for that, I needed to be knocked down a peg. Not mention, I was being such a hypocrite.” Kimiko pointed out. She smiled then, although it soon tapered the more she dwelled on their situation. “I just, I just didn’t expect this to happen.” the monk leaned in her doorway.

Kimiko didn’t know what to expect. She wasn’t worried about the cowboy; he was the team anchor, not only strong but stable in times of crisis. It was Chase Young that worried her, as seeing he’s made it clear more than once that he found Clay to be the most _expendable_ Xiaolin monk.

At best, Ping Pong and her would find their friend beaten to a pulp, _but still alive_. Yet combing through that forest with its overgrown brambles and shrubs, neither one found a lick of Clay or his bruised face. Dojo offered to sniff him out like a bloodhound but that only succeeded in locating the cowboy’s shredded hat.

The trio did not panic then, and Kimiko was the first to suggest Clay must’ve checked in at the local clinic. But he wasn’t sitting around at the clinic in Norwich, or been wheeled into the emergency room in York, or even bedridden in the intensive care unit in Edinburgh. Needless to say, their hopes were crushed by the time they left Great Britain.

“So uh, what’s the game plan now?” Raimundo stuffed in his hands into his pockets. In times like these, he wished Master Fung was still around to put in a good word or two. “I mean, we can’t blast our way into Chase’s pad like a bunch of Americans.” he contended.

Kimiko shrugged before rising from her doorway. She started walking then, Raimundo joining her seconds later, and the pair headed for the kitchen. “I don’t have a clue either, but let’s check on Omi and Ping Pong first. They’re probably fixing breakfast right now.” she turned to her friend, who nodded in agreement.

Approaching the kitchen, Raimundo could smell bacon sizzling and hoped Omi remembered he liked his bacon extra crispy. Kimiko heard eggs plopping into a hot pan and then wondered what kind of omelette Ping Pong was making this time. But when the monks stepped inside, their hunger was replaced with a filling shock.

There was bacon, there were eggs, but neither Ping Pong or Omi were doing the cooking. Instead, breakfast was being made by _Clay_ , who always fancied meat, despite knowing one of his teammates was a vegetarian. He whistled a country tune while he cooked and swabbed another pan with butter in preparation for sizzling ham.

While laying slices of ham down, Clay noticed his friends out the corner of his eye. He turned around to face them, a smile growing on his face when seeing he’s the only one in temple robes, as the others were still in their pajamas. “Mornin’ ya two! Breakfast will be done in just a second now.” the cowboy chuckled.

But he didn’t chuckle for long, because the next thing he knew, Kimiko and Raimundo had pounced on him with ecstatic relief. Clay wobbled a couple of steps from the stove and looked down at the commotion clinging to his chest. “Whoa nelly! Where’s the fire y’all?” he asked.

At this point, Omi had finished a long and groggy journey from the sheets of his bed. He was in the middle of a yawn when he happened to look up and see Clay. His yawn quickly changed into an elated scream and the monk pounced on him as well.

The cowboy teetered several more steps but did not topple over. He blinked a few times, unsure what he should do with all this unexpected affection. “Golly, the last time I got this much spotlight on me, it was my sixteenth birthday.” Clay chuckled.

“Sorry dude, I’m sorry,” Raimundo unraveled his arms from Clay’s waist and stepped back. He took a moment to blink the tears from his eyes. “I just – _fuck_ – I shouldn’t have left you like that. Like, _Jesus Christ_ , I thought I sent my best friend to the grave…” he shook his head, fingers grabbing his hair.

“Aw shucks, it’s all right partner. I ain’t even that mad.” Clay insisted. He waited until Kimiko and Omi were finished squeezing the daylights out of him before continuing. “I reckon _I_ should be the one apologizin’ to you folks. I couldn’t stop Chase from runnin’ off with the Shield of Boudicca.” he sighed in defeat.

“Seriously? You’re going to apologize for that?” Kimiko gave Clay a light punch to the arm. Wow, this cowboy was just _too damn humble_ for his own good. “Sorry, but losing some Shen Gong Wu is the least of our concerns right now.” she pointed out.

Omi nodded in agreement. He even forgotten the name of the Wu until now. “The important thing is that you are alive Clay. We seriously considered the possibility that Chase Young might have either captured you, or well… _killed you_.” he feared.

The monk wasn’t sure what would happen if the latter became true. Their friend was an integral part of their team; he couldn’t envision another Dragon of Earth replacing Clay. “I am so relieved to see my friend has escaped our enemies’ clutches.” Omi grinned.

“Yeah, although not without a scratch or two,” Clay gestured to his bruised knuckles and fingers wrapped in several layers of bandages. He rolled his sleeve up and the others could see his arm bandaged as well. “Guess that means ‘ya can’t jump me for a while now.” he patted his chest.

“So dude, how did you even get back here? I mean, it must’ve been a long walk, right?” Raimundo crossed his arms with a chuckle. He watched his friend opened his mouth to answer, but stopped midway when Omi jumped between them. “Wait! Wait! Where is Ping Pong? I must tell him our friend has returned safe and sound!” the monk grinned.

Running from the kitchen, he passed Dojo in the hallway and headed straight to his room. But he did not find Ping Pong curled up in his sheets as he excepted. The monk checked underneath Ping Pong’s bed just to be safe and then rose with a frown.

Where could his little gecko be? Omi decided to look where Ping Pong usually hung out; the main hall, the obstacle course, and the temple garden. He didn’t find the monk in either location, which made him raise an eyebrow, because his friend had shown to be quite punctual with his morning routine.

“Now where he could be…?” Omi rubbed his chin. He passed through the main hall again, his pace slowing when seeing a Ming vase rattle. Raising an eyebrow, he approached it with careful steps and then jumped back when Ping Pong’s head poked out.

“Ping Pong!” he jumped forward to help him out of the vase. The monk looked haggard from the bags underneath his eyes to his crumpled pajamas. “Did you sleep in that vase all night?” Omi asked.

Ping Pong blinked a couple of times and then realized it was morning. He suddenly grabbed Omi by the collar. _“Where’s Clay?!”_ he demanded, eyes growing wide.

Before Omi could even mutter a word, the monk was dragging him back to the kitchen. Ping Pong felt the fear rising in his chest as last night still clung to his memory. “We have to help Clay! _He’s_ – _He’s_ – _He’s_ ,” he trailed off when arriving.

There was laughter, there were smiles, and no one seemed particularly worried about the rotting corpse inside the kitchen. Not even the corpse himself, whom Ping Pong watched pow around with Raimundo. The monk rubbed his eyes to see if his sleep-deprived mind was playing tricks.

“No need to worry my high-strung friend,” Ping Pong flinched when Omi placed a hand on his shoulder. His role model then gave him a big smile. “Clay is all right.” he grinned.

Ping Pong watched as Omi left his side and joined the others’ merriment. Yet he couldn’t join himself, no matter how much Kimiko smiled or Dojo smooched the cowboy’s brow in relief. “No, no, this isn’t right – _this isn’t right at all!_ ” he blurted.

Silence fell right then, everyone turning to him with looks of confusion. Clay cocked his head and then walked forward, only to watch Ping Pong retreat a step in consequence. “Partner, what’s the matter? Ain’t cha happy to see me?” he asked.

“I-I am, but,” Ping Pong frowned as he looked at the cowboy from head to toe. It was almost hard to believe Clay was the same person whose skin plopped to the floor like wet tissue paper. “Clay… do you recall _anything_ from last night?” he asked slowly.

“Give me a second now,” Clay rubbed his chin. He dropped his hand seconds later. “I reckon I spent most the night tryin’ to get back to the temple. Why?” he answered.

_“Why?”_ Ping Pong shook his head, unsure whether he should be offended by the cowboy’s nonchalance or disturbed by it. “I found you last night! You looked _terrible!_ You looked like someone _bashed_ your face in with a pipe! Your skin was pale and _rotten!_ You _reeked_ of death! **It was horrible!** ” the monk accused.

The monks looked at Clay, who reeled back in disbelief, and then to Ping Pong. Dojo flicked between him and Clay before clearing his throat. “That’s uh, that’s quite a morbid dream you’re describing there.” he gave an awkward chuckle.

Kimiko walked over to Ping Pong and kneeled beside him. She could tell when he was telling the truth. “Ping Pong… that can’t be true, I mean, _look at Clay_ , he looks all right to me.” she tried reasoning.

“ **No!** He’s not all right! I saw him last night! His bones were popping in the _wrong_ places! His skin was _falling off!_ H-He was bleeding t-this _black stuff_ – he threw up and it was _spreading_ across the floor!” Ping Pong trembled as he shouted.

“Woah little dude, you’re describing a horror movie here,” Raimundo waved his hands and then placed them on his hips. In fact, it sounded like a horror flick he’s seen a while back with Jermaine. “Dojo’s right, because it sounds like you’ve had a bad dream.” he nodded.

Ping Pong couldn’t believe the lack of severity his teammates were showing. He swatted Omi’s hand from his arm, which had been splotched with a black substance. “I have to agree with the others, you clearly had a bad dream. Everyone has one, including yours truly.” Omi smiled.

Pushing his frames back into place, the monk fell into silence then. The odds were not stacked in his favor – especially when he didn’t have evidence to back up his claims. A shadow loomed over him then, and he glanced to see Clay smiling overhead.

“I don’t know what’s been spookin’ ya lately, but partner _look at me_ ,” Clay kneeled before him and opened his arms. The last time he checked, he wasn’t a living member of the dead. “Aside from bein’ scratched to Hell by a lizard, I’m about as fit as a fiddle.” the cowboy gestured for a hug.

“So ‘ya got nothin’ to worry about!” Clay pulled Ping Pong into a tight embrace as soon as he was close enough. He patted his tiniest friend on the back and then looked him in the eye.

“I’m okay, I promise!” he grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, talk about a mind twist! 
> 
> Who's telling the truth? Ping Pong or Clay? Even if it was all just a bad dream, _how does that explain the black splotches on Ping Pong's pajamas?_
> 
> Feedback is welcomed!


	4. Chapter 4

Ping Pong sat on the sidelines, knees tucked against his chest, and arms holding them together. Beyond him where his fellow monks and they were in the middle of running the obstacle course. Despite the superb talent laid out before him, he only paid attention to one Shoku Warrior.

Clay twirled his lasso several times and then snatched another boulder. The rope snagged when he gave it a tug, the boulder arching into the air before smashing the final wooden dummy to smithereens. The ground trembled from its impact, Ping Pong ducking as splinters of wood and rock pelted him in consequence.

Brushing the debris off his shoulders, the monk watched as Clay decided to take a break then, sighing while he fanned himself with his hat. A frown creased his brow when the cowboy took off his shirt, revealing a chest and arms wrapped tightly in bandages. How _convenient_ those bandages hid the lacerations that riddled his chest, the gash that sank deep into his shoulder, and the claws that ripped his back open.

"Seriously? Are you _still_ giving Clay the stink eye?" Ping Pong felt a cool breeze on his left and turned just in time to see Raimundo settling beside him. He had a towel draped around his neck. "Like, cut him some slack dude." the monk sighed.

"I'm not giving him the stink eye!" Ping Pong protested. He watched as the other raised an eyebrow at him, lip curing in doubt. "… If you're here to tease me, then go away. I'm not in the mood." he grumbled.

Raimundo's face had soften then, and he reached to place a hand on Ping Pong's shoulder. He glanced toward the cowboy shooting the breeze with Omi and then turned back to his friend. "Look, I don't mean to be rude and all, but it's been five days. Why are you still glued on this nightmare of yours?" he sighed.

"Because, it wasn't a nightmare. _I know_ when I'm having a nightmare." Ping Pong huffed. His frown grew even harder at Clay laughing, a sight that was surreal to him now. "There's something very wrong here. I don't think our friend is the same person we know." the monk feared.

"So what? You're saying our friend's been replaced by a robot or something?" Raimundo rubbed his chin in thought. It wouldn't be the first time he's bashed heads with a metallic doppelgänger. At least _that_ robotic Kimiko was a prototype, he couldn't imagine what Jack Spicer's been cooking now.

Ping Pong shook his head and loosened the grip around his knees. Clay couldn't be a robot; none of Spicer's androids were **that** detailed, unless he wanted dip into the uncanny valley. Furthermore, that wasn't oil and transmission fluids the cowboy had bled, or even retched.

Speaking of bleeding, his first piece of evidence should've been the cowboy's tattered and bloody clothes. They would've been more credible than his pajamas, which everyone discredited as stains from a broken fountain pen. But the rags in question were nowhere to be found; either Clay had trashed them right away or washed and stitched them like he did with his favorite hat.

"Look, I'll give you some credit. Clay has been acting **a little** different." Raimundo admitted. His friend seemed a little more confident, a little cheekier, and rather _delighted_ to be built like a tank. "But that doesn't mean there's something wrong with him." he argued.

"To be honest, Clay's hard to decipher. He doesn't show a lot of emotion like we do," Raimundo scratched the back of his head. The unfortunate consequence of living in the Bible Belt and having Daddy Bailey as a father. "So these little differences might be just him trying to adjust again or whatever." the monk suggested.

At this point, their conversation was cut short as Dojo slithered onto the obstacle course whooping and hollering for everyone's attention. Raimundo patted Ping Pong on the back and then rose to his feet, his friend following him seconds later. "Look alive people! We've got ourselves a live one!" the dragon announced.

Dojo laid the ancient scroll of the Shen Gong Wu down and then unraveled it. The monks gathered around to see a spear materialize in the mystical text. "Ah, the Spear of Athena. Dashi spent some time crafting this one." he grinned.

"Has anyone noticed we've been getting a lot of **girl** Wu lately?" Raimundo observed. He waved his hands in defense when Kimiko turned to him, eyebrow quirked. "Not complaining. I know girls can throw a punch or two." he patted his cheek, which by then had healed completely.

"I reckon it's a lot better than Wu that aren't so straightforward, or just plain old bafflin'," Clay scratched the back of his head. He then crossed his arms. "Like, remember that hootenanny of a Shen Gong Wu? The one that turned into a giant baby and sling diapers at folks?" he recalled.

Omi shivered from just the memory of that. He didn't say it outright, but the Sweet Baby Among Us had always creeped him out a little. "Well, let us not just stand here like a bunch of squatting quails! Let us go find this Wu before it is too late!" the monk declared.

"I think you mean sitting ducks, but you're right with that second part." Dojo nodded as he rolled the scrolled back up. It would be much safer in their hands than either Jack or Wuya's. "All right, you heard the little man, let's do this." he clapped.

" _But first_ ," the dragon smirked when seeing everyone freeze in place. They settled back on two feet, Omi huffing at him consequently. "You kids should wash up first. I'm not going to be that school bus carrying the football team home." he crossed his arms at Clay in particular, who worked up the most sweat.

Now properly informed, the monks started to walk back inside, with Omi being the first as always. Clay had uncrossed his arms then and rubbed his chin a little in thought. "Say uh, Dojo, what exactly does that Spear of Athena do, anyway?" the cowboy asked.

"Well, aside from giving the wielder excellent coordination to spear folks, to name one benefit, you can fork a steak like no one else." Dojo chuckled. His lips curled into an even bigger smile when remembering more of what the grand master had said. "Also, as Dashi described, 'you can channel the power of Athena herself'." he snickered.

"So I'd guess 'ya could say it's one of those _sister Wu_ then?" Clay theorized. At that point, Ping Pong had glanced over his shoulder to look at Clay, suspicion no longer eavesdropping. "Yeah, I'd guess so? Why? Something troubling you there big guy?" Dojo worried.

The cowboy blinked and realized the looks his friends were giving him. He chuckled right then, his lips curling into a big smile, and shrugged as well. "Oh nothin' big, I was just ponderin'." he insisted.

* * *

The sea churned with bubbles until a squadron of Jack-Bots broke the surface, their exhaust leaving a plume of steam rising into the sky. Tourist and locals craned their necks to gawk at the robots soaring overhead, their cameras flashing in consequence at such an unexpected spectacle. The squadron paid them no attention however, and flew to the ruins that were closed to both parties.

Here beyond the closed gates and fences wrapped in caution tape, there were even more Jack-Bots. They were in the middle of a grand excavation; some robots were hauling dirt, others were dusting priceless artifacts, and there were a few just loafing around. The squadron soared over them as well and then climbed the hill that overlooked the ruins.

Perched at the summit was Jack Spicer, whom spearheaded this excavation since dawn. He watched as his Jack-Bots climbed over the hilltop and then crossed his arms when seeing they returned empty-handed. "What gives?! Where's my Shen Gong Wu?!" he demanded.

"Our apologies sir, we could not find the Spear of Athena within the submerged ruins." the squadron leader informed. Jack's brow scrunched into an impatient frown and he growled. "Seriously?! How hard is it to find a stupid spear?! It's _literally_ a giant stick with a knife glued at the top!" he yelled.

"Look, why don't you guys take another hard look. Perhaps a little **deeper** this time. I know that port extends _at least_ another hundred yards or so into the Aegean." the evil genius stressed. Jack watched as his robots flew off with new orders and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "You just can't find good help these days…" he shook his head with a sigh.

There was a cackle then, and Jack glanced down to see his shadow twisting. He stumbled back with a yelp as his shadow sprouted a pair of eyes and a mouth before it bulged from the ground. "Now hold on a minute – it's just **you** , isn't it?" his brow scrunched into a frown again when recognizing those eyes.

Shadow laughed as she rose to her feet, blackness transforming into flesh and bone once more. She walked closer to the evil genius and then flicked his nose. "Still relying on these tin cans of yours? You're not going to get far in the game if you keep depending on _shoddy equipment_." the warrior grinned.

"For your information _bug eater_ ," Jack slapped her hand away from his face. He rubbed his nose and pointed to the robots excavating underneath their feet. "My Jack-Bots have a success rate of ninety-two percent _and_ climbing." he boasted.

"I must say that's impressive, even for an imbecile like yourself," Shadow tapped her chin and smiled when seeing Jack's ego deflate at her jab. She placed her hand back on her hip. "But you know that doesn't matter when those monks come around." she pointed out.

The evil genius rolled his eyes; the only obstacle to his perfect one hundred success rate. Someday he's going to build a generation of robots to crush those Xiaolin losers into dust. "… Anyway, what are _you_ doing here? Shouldn't you be following Chase or something?" Jack wondered.

Shadow blinked in surprise at his question and then crossed her arms. She hasn't been associated with him for a while now, not after the warlord's last spectacular blunder. "I am my own woman. I don't need Chase to anymore in my life." she declared.

Especially when there's far more competent malefactors than him in the Heylin faction. Like **Wuya** for an example; she treated Shadow with a lot more respect and decency than Chase ever did. In return, the witch didn't ask much from her, other than collect a certain number of Shen Gong Wu.

The Spear of Athena was one certain Shen Gong Wu to be collected. But Wuya never specified what she had in store for the Wu and that left Shadow guessing her true intentions. Whatever she planned must be huge, considering the Heylin witch was known for grand schemes; perhaps this was another return of the infamous Mala Mala Jong?

"C'mon, let's find the Wu before the peanut gallery arrives," Shadow trailed off as she caught a flash of green, blistering scales in the sky. Turning around, the warrior crossed her arms while Dojo made a final loop and then landed safely. "Speak of the devils themselves…" her lips curled into a smirk.

"Jack Spicer! Shadow! I should have known!" Omi leapt off the dragon's back and ran toward them. The smirk dropped from Shadow's face when seeing Clay among the monks backing up their valiant friend. "Stand down or prepare to be served a can of whoop-butt from us!" he threatened.

Jack looked to him deadpanned and then pressed a button on his watch. An instant later, Jack-Bots had spilled over the hilltop, armed to the teeth for battle. "I've been looking for this Shen Gong Wu since five in the morning! There's no way I'm going to let some fucking cheese ball take credit for my hard labor!" the evil genius growled.

Ping Pong's stance remained firm even as the number of Jack-Bots multiplied around them. They didn't worry him one bit – the real danger here was Shadow, whom seemed eager to slice and dice. "Hard labor aside, we're not going to let you two use the Spear of Athena for sinister deeds!" he declared.

"Now isn't that rich," Shadow's lips curled into another smirk and dropped her arms. Hands on hips, she shook her head with a chuckle, eyes falling on Clay again. "Accusing us of sinister deeds, when you must've done the same to get that giant buffoon of yours stitched back together." she pointed.

"Hey! You leave Clay alone!" Kimiko snapped. She jumped in front of the cowboy, preventing him from stomping over and pummeling Shadow himself. "Yeah! The big guy has been through enough as it is!" Raimundo added, stepping forward as well.

"Oh _boohoo_ , we made fun of the big dumb redneck. How _mean_ of us." Jack mocked in a childish tone. With a snap of his fingers, the Jack-Bots began to close in on the monks. "Are we going to get this show on the road or not?" he barked impatiently.

There was no answer from the monks and they surged forward with a cry. Likewise, the evil genius ordered his robots to attack and they surged forward as well. Both parties collided in a spectacular display of mystical elements and pragmatic machinery.

Kimiko weaved left and right as Jack-Bot after Jack-Bot threw themselves at her. She sent most reeling back with shattered limbs and damaged circuit boards. But some were notoriously persistent, prompting her to step up her game.

"Shoku Mars Fire!" she lunged into a crowd of Jack-Bots, her body igniting into flames. The monk tore right through them, robots exploding and catching on fire in consequence. Kimiko flipped and then swung around to send a wave of flames crashing into her opponents.

"Shoku Astro Wind!" Raimundo yelled. He clapped his hands together, sending a pressure wave of air radiating outward. Jack-Bots were sliced to pieces and with the thrust of his arms, he sent a cyclone spinning toward another crowd of robots.

The monk ducked as Shadow came out of the blue and threw a fist at him. Dancing left and right, Raimundo tried swinging his leg into her cheek in retaliation. But the warrior caught his ankle and chucked him like garbage, bolting before he struck the ground with a thud.

Dodging shredded robotic limbs, Shadow charged forward and the youngest monks grew over the horizon. Omi spun around to see her barreling toward them and mistook it for an upcoming attack. "Shoku Neptune Water!" the monk cried.

Water surged from the palm of his hand, spiraling toward Shadow with incredible speed. But she was prepared for Omi's onslaught and dodged the torrents, which otherwise drowned unfortunate Jack-Bots caught in the crossfire. "Shoku Element Wood!" Ping Pong charged.

The warrior smiled as Ping Pong charged at her in the opposite direction. She slapped him aside when he swung at her and then weaved through another volley of water from Omi. He braced for an impact, only to yelp as Shadow used his head as a springboard for her jump.

Clay had been tearing Jack-Bots to pieces with his bare hands when Shadow fell into his view. There wasn't enough time to evade and the soles of her feet slammed right into his chest. Her weight and momentum propelled him back, his boots skidding across the dirt as the warrior landed safely.

"Really, I am quite surprised," Shadow brushed the dust off her shoulders and then looked over to Clay. While her kick wasn't powerful enough to topple him, she at least got the satisfaction of seeing him doubled over in pain. "Shouldn't you be playing the banjo to a couple of angels right now?" she taunted.

"First off partner, I don't play the banjo," Clay trailed off with a wheeze before straightening his back again. He balled his hands into fists again, lips curling into a cheeky smile when meeting Shadow's eyes. "Even if I did, I reckon yer nowhere as close to bein' an angel, _darlin'_." he grinned.

Shadow spat him a bitter frown and then lunged after him again. Her punches thudded against the cowboy's bandaged arms as he blocked them, the smile growing cheekier on his face. That in return made his opponent even angrier and she pushed herself away from him.

So, that's the game he wants to play? Well fine, she'll give him a run for his money; lunging once more, her kicks and swings did not let up for a minute. The warrior was determined to keep Clay on his toes and wipe that cocky smile off his face.

Ping Pong felt around for his glasses and found them scratched from gravel. Slipping them back on, he frowned at the shallow ditch he tumbled into and then clambered out of it. Damn that Jack Spicer; him and Omi were doing just fine until he split them apart with the Monkey Staff.

He would have jumped back into the fray, if a boisterous laugh hadn't caught his attention instead. The monk blinked and then followed the laugh to find Clay sparring with Shadow. Climbing over a fallen column, he inched closer for a better view and raised an eyebrow at his friend's jubilant tone.

"Ya don't look so good _darlin'_ ," Clay laughed at the sight of Shadow huffing and puffing. Never mind he was short-winded himself, more so being wrapped in bandages like a Christmas present. "What happened to the fire I saw earlier?" he teased.

"It's still there _sweetheart_ ," Shadow threw another fist, which he evaded once more. She kneed him in the gut when the cowboy snatched her wrist and jumped back. "The heat's been turned up because I'm not going to let that corpse of yours be sewed up for a second time." she growled.

Even closer now, Ping Pong peered for his hiding spot and watched the pair exchange blows. He winced as the cowboy punched Shadow right in the nose. "Again, what's the all this corpse talk? Can't ya just accept the fact that I'm still alive and kickin'?" Clay shrugged, opening his arms.

The warrior teetered back in consequence and tasted blood on her lips. Spitting it aside, she bared her fangs and then charged at Clay, utterly enraged. "I won't accept this! Want to know why? _Because you're supposed to be **dead!**_ " Shadow roared.

With lighting speed, she pounced on him and unleashed a barrage of fists. Ping Pong clasped a hand over his mouth as Clay bounced from one fist to the other and was unable to stop Shadow's relentless assault. Each punch was like a sledgehammer to the face and gut, which grew bloodier by the minute.

Shadow paused for a moment to catch her breath and blinked the sweat from her eyes. At this point, the cowboy swayed in a dazed manner, bruises riddling his face, blood spilling from his nostrils and mouth. But that wasn't enough for the warrior – with a cry, she spun around and slammed her leg into Clay's face, his neck twisting until there was a definite **snap**.

_"Clay!"_ Ping Pong screamed as his friend dropped to the ground with a hard thud. He bolted from his hiding spot and rushed to the cowboy's aid. But he came to a screeching halt when he saw the blood pooling around Clay's head. "No! No! It can't be! _It can't be!_ " he grabbed his temples, tears welling in his eyes.

"You better believe it _gumdrop_ ," Shadow stepped over the cowboy's lifeless form, her boots stained with his blood. She chuckled as Ping Pong looked up to her and then shifted into a fighting stance. "That'll be _twice_ I've put your strongest monk into the ground." she grinned and kicked Clay's hat aside.

At least, she did grin until a groan suddenly rumbled behind her. Shadow turned around to see Clay's hand twitch and stepped back as it curled into a fist. Ping Pong dropped his stance altogether, eyes widening as the cowboy rose on his knees first and then staggered to his feet.

His legs wobbled a little before he spun around to face the pair. Except the problem was his head still faced the direction his neck had been snapped. Clay touched his neck and then gave it some pressure, the bones twisting in a wet pop as they were pushed back into alignment.

_"God damn,"_ Clay made one final adjustment before dropping from his hands. He was longer bleeding red, but a black, viscous fluid that oozed from his mouth and nostrils liked a cracked egg. "I love a woman that can throw a punch!" he laughed.

Shadow couldn't believe her own eyes. She opened her mouth several times, feet moving backward as Clay shambled closer, the bones popping in places they shouldn't. "My God… what in blazes **are** you?" she finally spoke.

Ping Pong was shrinking as well, more so when Clay laughed at her question. Memories of that horrible night came flooding back to him. "What am I? I don't know _darlin'_ – remember, _I'm just a giant buffoon stitched together_. **_A big 'ole dumb redneck_**." the cowboy repeated her and Spicer's insults with another laugh.

"But here's **my** question _darlin'_ ," the amusement dropped from his face, a snarl parting from Clay's bloody lips. He cracked his knuckles and then cocked his head to the warrior. "What's goin' to be left of yer daddy and 'ya when **I'm** through with y'all?" he asked.

"Clay! Ping Pong!" Clay glanced over his shoulder to see Omi and the other monks spill over the horizon. While he was distracted, Ping Pong patted himself down, gasping in relief when reaching into his jacket. "Tangled Web Comb!" he lashed out.

Whipping around, Clay gasped as his chest and arms were suddenly wrapped in olive. He barked a swear and struggled to break free, the comb's hairs growing tighter around his broad frame the more he writhed. Ping Pong yanked and the hairs snapped to leave his friend dressed in one very tight vest.

The monk then yelled at Shadow to run. She blinked a couple of times in astonishment, looking at Clay whom now toppled over, and then to Ping Pong once more. Their friends' hollering grew louder and she turned to start running, leaving the monks to deal with their homemade monster.

Draped around Kimiko's shoulders, Dojo couldn't make sense of the scene growing before him. There was his favorite cowboy, ensnared by comb hair and thrashing about to break free. Looming over him was his favorite kiddo and if his eyes weren't that old, he could see Shadow making her getaway.

"What happened here?!" the dragon asked. Omi immediately went to Clay's aid, only to have Ping Pong shove him back in consequence. "Stay back! Don't come any closer!" he warned.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Omi wrestled to break free of his friend's grasp, determined to help his fallen teammate. Luckily, Kimiko and Raimundo were there to help the cowboy get back on his feet again. "No! Stay away from him! _He's – He's – **He's!**_ " Ping Pong clamped his mouth shut when seeing the daggers in Clay's eyes.

_"He's pretty fuckin' **pissed** with a certain lil' hombre!"_ Clay spat the moment he could. Kimiko reeled a little when seeing his bruised face up close. "Did you two get into a fight or something?" she frowned.

The monk balled his hands into fists when everyone turned to him. He wasn't going to shy from their eyes like before. "No, we didn't fight. The **real** Clay wouldn't throw a punch at his friends!" he pointed.

Clay rolled his eyes with an exasperated groan. Raimundo wiped some blood from the cowboy's nose and then crossed his arms at Ping Pong. "Dude, we _just_ talked about this!" he chastised.

" **No!** You listen to _me!_ I'm sick of _everyone_ acting like there's _nothing_ wrong here! **I know** what I saw and that is **not** our friend! **_That is not Clay!_** " Ping Pong screamed. His breath was shaky and when Omi reached for his shoulder, he slapped him away. _"Why don't you guys believe me?!"_ he pleaded.

Raimundo pinched the bridge of his nose, finding himself between a rock and a hard place. He made a glance toward Kimiko before stepping between Ping Pong and Clay. "To be honest, it's hard to believe you when your only evidence is a nightmare." the monk sighed.

His chest twinged at the look he'd received in return. Damn, he'd always hated picking sides with these kinds of situations. "Look, no one's saying _you're crazy_ dude. But how come this stuff _only_ happens when you're around Clay?" Raimundo asked.

An excellent point, which made Ping Pong's fists tremble with anger. The fact that Raimundo had wiped blood as opposed to that black fluid from Clay's nose wasn't helping the matter either. Furthermore, neither of the monks were there to witness Shadow _breaking_ Clay's neck and the cowboy twisting _back_ into place.

He remained silent as Kimiko and Omi put their two cents into the matter as well. But it was pointless; the monk knew when he was confronted with another brick wall. His eyes flicked up from their lecturing to see Clay watching in the background, lips curling into a _satisfied_ grin.

* * *

 "Oh man, for a little dude, he sure brings some **big** drama to the table!" Jack laughed from his vantage point. He lowered his binoculars, revealing an eye that was black and swollen. "Though I wonder what happened to Shadow…" he rubbed his bruised chin in thought.

There was a sudden tap to his shoulder, which made the evil genius spin around with a yelp. He sighed in relief when seeing it was just one of his surviving Jack-Bots. "Jesus, how many times have I told you guys to not sneak up on me like that?!" he snapped.

"Our apologies sir, but we have an important discovery to show you." the robot informed. Moving aside, the evil genius watched as another one approached him. His jaw dropped when seeing the Spear of Athena within the Jack-Bot's robotic clutches.

"No freaking way! Where on earth did you find it?!" Jack immediately snatched it out of his robot's metallic claws. The Wu didn't smell of encrusted salt, so they couldn't have found it in the port. "Y'know what it doesn't matter! Well done boys!" he raised a thumb to them.

The Jack-Bots glanced to each other and then raised a thumb themselves. Perhaps it was better their master didn't know need to know the truth. That it wasn't a grand discovery, but the result of two robots loafing around when they were supposed to be excavating.

Jack whistled for his surviving robots to saddle up and headed back to his jet. Now he could definitely boast his Jack-Bots having a success rate of ninety- **three** percent and climbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man, what a roller coaster of a chapter! Honestly, I didn't think it would be this long. But when I actually sat down to write it, _oh boy..._
> 
> Anyway, I do like how this chapter turned out, there were some things I wanted to include, but I left them on the cutting block in a sense. I did think about cutting this chapter in half, but I realized the flow would've been off, since I wrote to be read in one going. I feel like I should apologize for the lengthy chapter, hahaha. 
> 
> Feedback is welcomed!


	5. Chapter 5

Clay muttered bitterly as he unraveled the bandages from his arm. They fluttered to his feet, blotched with sweat and grime at first, before the strips of gauze turned carmine from dried blood. Dried blood that grew darker until the bandages plopped to his feet, a few soggy with black fluid, and others holding chunks of skin.

He raised his arm once it was free of bandages, his brow scrunching into an equally bitter frown. Bruising discolored his skin and it squished when he squeezed, the muscles underneath effectively mush. The cowboy’s eyebrow twitched at the sharp pain and then trembled as it grew sharper.

“C’mon partner,” he muttered before shaking his head, dizziness overwhelming him. He wobbled over to the counter and felt his breath coming short. _“Let’s keep it together now…”_ Clay wheezed.

It was like a sledgehammer to the gut, and the cowboy shut his eyes as the pain took a harder swing. He could feel the skin on his back stretch until it ripped in several places, black fluid oozing across the broad expanse of clamminess. His chest rumbled with a growl then and Clay forced himself to stand properly.

Focus dammit, _focus_ – Clay clasped a hand over his mouth when he hiccuped, the sink staining black underneath. He lowered his hand moments later and glared at his rotting face in the mirror’s reflection. “C’mon partner… I didn’t spend a week puttin’ ya back together so that ‘ya can rot on me again.” he growled.

The cowboy clenched his jaw and held onto the counter. His body then rippled with a different kind of sensation, the pain he felt suddenly became a lot more tolerable. “Ah yeah, that’s it, that’s what I like to see…” he chuckled at the bleeding coming to a reverse.

His hand reached to feel the skin on his back reclosing and squeezed his arm moments later, the muscles no longer mush. He grinned as his skin returned to its healthy shade, his body becoming presentable once more. “Ya really had me worried for a second there partner. I need ‘ya to keep it together. At least for just a lil’ more.” Clay murmured while flexing his arm.

Pushing the curtain aside, Clay glanced left and right, finding the hallway to be vacant. No one had been around to hear all that huffing and puffing he made; ducking into the bathroom for a moment, the cowboy hopped out with a trash bag slung over his shoulder. Fresh bandages dressed his chest and arms while the soiled ones were stuffed inside the bag.

There was no way he could’ve left them in the bathroom – not with the Pink Panther digging through his garbage for evidence. He would have to burn them, just like he did with the clothes he originally wore that night. The cowboy grumbled as he was forced to cover his tracks in such a tedious manner.

What a persistent little bugger that kid has been; whenever he turned a corner, Ping Pong was there to eye him like a thief. Of course, he took offense to such rubbish because in his opinion, nothing had stolen, only _borrowed_ without permission at best. All would be returned eventually, right after he took care of some unfinished business.

“Taking out the trash?” Clay jumped to the voice behind him. He spun around to find Kimiko leaning against the wall he passed, attention glued to her phone. “Nice bandages, by the way.” she noticed.

“Kimiko, ‘ya scared me partner!” the cowboy laughed in relief. He glanced to his bag and then gave her a shrug. “Oh yeah, I got my old bandages in here. They’re all bloody and gross. It’s a biohazard to leave them out in the open ‘ya know?” he explained.

“Right, right, of course.” Kimiko trailed off into another text message, somewhat uninterested. She remained indifferent until her friend walked out of sight. “Well, here goes nothing…” the monk closed her phone and then sighed, rising from the wall.

It didn’t take long for her to catch up with the cowboy. Kimiko tucked a wayward lock behind her ear, remaining silent for a moment and then glanced up to Clay. “So, that was quite a rumble out there. Jack really brought his A game today, didn’t he?” she began with a chuckle.

There was a shrug from him, the chuckling tapered off in consequence. Kimiko chewed her lip, nodding to the lack of response and then glanced at Clay again. “You know, that was uh, quite a spectacle Ping Pong made back there in Greece. What’s your take on that?” she asked.

“It’s hogwash I reckon. _All of it_ ,” Clay frowned. He tried going left, but Kimiko suddenly cut in front and prevented him from taking a different hallway. “Ya don’t **really** believe all that corral dust, do ‘ya now?” he scoffed while being redirected to follow the other’s footpath.

“Well, I’m not going to lie, it does sound like hogwash,” Kimiko slowed her pace until she stopped. The monk crossed her arms while her friend kept walking. “But then again, Ping Pong’s our friend and we shouldn’t disregard him. Not to mention, the last time no one listened to him, we lost our temple.” she recalled.

“Now what in tarnation is **that** supposed to mean?” Clay spun around with a growl. Kimiko stood her ground and refused to be intimidated by his affront. “I don’t know, I was hoping you could tell me. You’re still honest with me, right? You don’t have to fudge around this girl.” she reminded.

The cowboy rolled his eyes and then pinched the bridge of his nose. He dropped his trash bag, which hit the ground with a wet plop, and shook his head. “ _Jesus Christ partner_ , I feel like a broken record at this point. How many times am I goin’ to have to say it?” he groaned.

Clay patted his chest and even did a twirl for Kimiko. He opened his arms then so that she could see there was nothing up his lack of sleeves. “I’m fine. I’m A-OK. I’m all right. I’m fit as a fiddle. I’m stronger than an ox. I’m nothin’ but good health and clean livin’ here!” he asserted once more.

Kimiko stared at him, looking for something – _anything_ in the cowboy’s eyes. She found nothing but a stubborn brick wall and one frustrated rope slinger. “Look, if there’s something wrong, you could always tell me. Even if it’s something horrible. You know I would never go behind a friend’s back.” her lips curled into a hopeful smile.

Clay huffed and then grabbed his trash bag. He stomped past the monk. “There’s nothin’ to tell because _there’s nothin’ wrong with me_.” he growled.

There was no attempt to stop him and Kimiko watched as Clay stomped out of sight. Alone in the hallway, the monk reached for her brow and sighed in defeat; well that backfired spectacularly. She blinked once and then raised an eyebrow when noticing the black drops that streaked past her feet.

Omi’s ears perked to the sound of footsteps. When he opened his eyes, Kimiko had walked into the main hall, short one Dragon of Earth. He dropped his meditation pose while she flopped down into a chair beside Raimundo. “I take it our large friend will not be joining us…?” he assumed.

“Let’s just say ‘stubborn as a mule’ couldn’t be truer.” Kimiko sat upright and then hunched over to rest her chin in the palm of her hands. Her eyes flicked over to her friends. “I don’t know. I thought he could at least be honest with me but those lips are sealed.” she sighed.

“Look, one of them **has** to be lying,” Raimundo sprung to his feet and frowned in annoyance. He was fed up with this game of ‘he said, she said’ the Xiaolin Temple edition. “And I don’t know about you guys, but our friend Boris is too sincere to start lying out of his ass.” the monk crossed his arms.

“Indeed Raimundo, and although I am the most critical of our newest teammate, Ping Pong – _Boris_ – has nothing to gain from throwing such slander at Clay.” Omi nodded in agreement. But then that left Clay as the prime suspect, which the monk found hard to swallow. “Something must have happened between him and Chase Young to cause all this turmoil.” he concluded.

Raimundo uncrossed his arms then and ran a hand through his brown locks. He tapped his chin while thinking, regretful he wasn’t present at the aforementioned encounter. “You don’t think like, Chase took his _good_ chi or something?” he threw out there.

It wouldn’t be the first time the warlord had done such a heinous act. The memories still plagued Omi, right down to walking on all fours as one adherent feline. “While that is most troubling, it cannot be true. We have the Sun Chi Lantern and both yo-yos to the Ying-Yang World.” he said.

“Even if that was true, how does that explain the black ooze?” Kimiko pointed out. She blinked once and then remembered the trail of black drops that passed her feet. “We’ve both gotten our good chi swapped, but we didn’t start bleeding ink.” she added.

“You are most correct Kimiko,” Omi nodded in agreement. He rubbed his chin for a moment and then rose from his seat, mimicking Raimundo’s stance. “That leaves us with another question; what causes blood to run viscous and eyes to turn black as coal, as our friend also described?” he asked.

The trio fell silent then, minds contemplating a suitable explanation to their dilemma. Kimiko settled back into her chair with a sigh and slowly rubbed her temples. She delved into her memories, trying to find who seem to fit the bill out of the countless adversaries they’ve fought.

Suddenly it hit her like a truck barreling down the freeway. The Dragon of Fire jumped to her feet with a gasp, startling Raimundo and Omi. She clasped a hand over her mouth for a second and then dropped it, her chest tightening with dread.

“Omi, take me to the Shen Gong Wu vault.” Kimiko demanded. She turned to him, hands balling into fists. Omi looked her in the eye and then nodded in agreement.

Raimundo raised an eyebrow when Omi gestured for him to follow. The monks ran out of the main hall and down the hallway, making a right before reaching a set of stairs. One flight after the other they ventured deep underground.

Here the Shen Gong Wu vault stood solid and impenetrable; not even Barkey LeBois’s roots grew this deep into the mountain. As the last means of defense, the hallway leading up to the vault was armed to the teeth with dangerous booby traps. But the traps only activated in the presence of intruders and the monks had little to fear about getting maimed by accident.

There was a rumble before the heavy doors of the vault slid open, revealing the monks’ collection of Shen Gong Wu. Kimiko tapped her chin while she browsed the many shelves and Wu stacked before her. Raimundo scratched the back of his head, confused at the sudden fuss his friends were making about the vault.

He received an answer when Kimiko reached up and pulled out the Mosaic Scale. His eyes widen in shock then, finally on the same page. “No. No way. You guys can’t be serious.” the monk shook his head in disbelief.

“Kimiko, you are not suggesting that _Sibini_ is the one behind all of this?” Omi asked in a grave tone. He watched as her fingers brushed over the welding she made with the Eye of Dashi. “It cannot be true. You are the one who sealed him back into the Mosaic Scale.” he reminded.

“But that was a long time ago! I was just a Xiaolin Apprentice then! I didn’t have like, _substantial_ magic or whatever to keep him sealed forever.” Kimiko reasoned. She frowned at the Wu in her hands. “And who else but Sibini has black, vacant eyes?” she asked.

“Well if we’re going to be honest, those giant spiders.” Raimundo pointed. Giant, omnivorous spiders that would’ve eaten the world, if Omi hadn’t drowned them all in magma. “But to be serious and all, I’m having a hard time believing Sibini’s at fault here.” he admitted.

The monk rubbed his chin and then looked over to the wall of Shen Gong Wu. His eyes scanned over the numerous mystical artifacts before he snapped his fingers at one in particular. “If we’re dealing with the little cockroach, then he would’ve been on **this** in a hot second.” Raimundo said.

He made two steps back and reached for the Monarch Wings. Kimiko looked at the Wu and then to the Mosaic Scale. “Like there’s no reason for him to stick around when _these_ are just next door. I know Clay’s injured and all, but he can still punch a hole through a mountain if he wanted.” he explained.

“I’d guess you’re right…” Kimiko trailed off with a bitter sigh. She placed the Wu back on the shelf and crossed her arms. “Plus, Sibini isn’t that clever to keep a ruse this long. Sooner or later someone would fall victim to one of his schoolyard pranks.” she chuckled a little.

“Furthermore, it should not be a problem for either one of us to defeat Sibini. We know he is uh, ‘swings first, ask questions later’ type of guy, as Raimundo might say.” Omi grinned. He walked out of the vault, his friends following after the Monarch Wings had been returned. “So with confidence, we can rule out him as the one causing trouble.” he nodded.

With the clap of his hands, the heavy doors of the vault closed with a rumble. Kimiko lingered on the immense doors before turning to face her teammates. “All right, so what’s the plan now?” she asked with hands on her hips.

“Just like Boris, we should keep our eyelids peeled for anything suspicious.” Omi proposed. The monks nodded in agreement. “Although it might be difficult – Clay is quite good making himself unremarkable.” he rubbed his chin.

As the trio made for upstairs, Kimiko made a final glance at the vault. She was wrong about Sibini, but that didn’t quell the dread in her chest. Something was coming – something **big**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot! Things are really picking up! Ping Pong's finally getting the backup he deserves! 
> 
> Overall I think this chapter turned out nicely! I actually went back to take another look at Chronicles and see where the Shen Gong Wu vault was located in the new temple as well as Omi being the only one that can access it. Also I checked and in both series the monks have the Ying Yang Yo-Yos, or whatever they're called in Chronicles.
> 
> I know it's been a while since I updated, and I apologize! Darn those other commitments!
> 
> Feedback is welcomed!


	6. Chapter 6

“Wait a minute, so this is the Wu Xing Shield?” Ping Pong adjusted his frames and then furrowed his brow. With all the hoopla Dojo had made, he expected the Shen Gong Wu to look just as important as the name it was given. “It’s… a bit different from what I envisioned.” he admitted.

Omi scooched forward and looked over his friend’s shoulder. He too envisioned one of Dashi’s greatest creations, but instead he found a rather plain-looking Wu materializing in the mystical scroll. “Dojo, I do not mean to doubt your senses, but I am most confused.” the monk said.

“Don’t let appearances fool you kiddo. You remember what happened last time?” Dojo reminded. His tail danced in the wind, Honduras whizzing past underneath him. “It might be not much of a looker now, but this Wu’s important. More important than what’s stashed back at the vault!” he explained.

Omi quirked an eyebrow at the dragon’s claims. He gestured Ping Pong to pass the scroll to him and he took a moment to read over the accompanying text. “Hmm, perhaps you are right after all. It says here that the Wu Xing Shield can be used to vanquish great evil.” he read aloud.

“Great evil? You mean there’s a way to defeat Wuya once and for all?” Ping Pong gasped. The elated grin on his face dropped when Raimundo shook his head in a skeptical manner. “This… this is not the way to defeat Wuya?” the monk asked.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pop your bubble like that,” Raimundo whistled for Omi to pass the scroll to him. He glanced over it as well and then rubbed his chin a little in thought. “But dude, we already know how to deal with Wuya. Just lock her in a puzzle box.” he said.

Kimiko inched forward and reached for Raimundo’s shoulder. She glanced over to see the scroll then eased back with a hand on her hip. “So if we’re not talking about Wuya here, then who are we talking about?” she asked.

“Well,” Raimundo closed the scroll and then passed it back to Omi. He ran a hand through his brown locks, wetting his lips before speaking. “Beside Chase and Wuya, Jack too if we’re going to be honest, who else prides themselves as being a great evil?” he gestured.

“… Hannibal Roy Bean!” Omi concluded. Clay raised his head, attention drawn from the lushness of Panama below, to eavesdrop on the others’ conversation. “Of course! For such a little bean, he sure does love to talk as though he is big as Jack Spicer!” the monk frowned.

Ping Pong nodded, although he was a little slow to match his role model’s conviction. Hannibal was a new name to him. “I presume he’s quite the adversary?” he asked.

“Indeed he is! He has been a thorn in our sides for numerous occasions!” Omi slammed a fist into his palm. He lightened up moments later, a smile growing as his chest puffed out in triumph. “But not to worry, yours truly has defeated him of course!” he bragged.

It was then Clay shook his head and broke into a hearty laugh, which caught everyone off guard. He uncrossed his arms and wiped a tear from his eye. “That’s real funny partner. I reckon I have memory of y’all losin’ the lil’ bean at Krakatoa.” the cowboy snickered, clutching his chest.

“Well, I suppose I might be exaggerating _a little_ with the truth then.” Omi admitted. He chuckled then, chest deflating and cleared his throat moments later. “But the important thing is that neither Hannibal Roy Bean or the Ying Yang Bird will be a nuisance to us now. So let us make haste!” he declared.

Dojo whipped himself into a faster pace, the tropical bushlands of Colombia and Ecuador becoming all but a green blur underneath him. It wasn’t long before the greenery dissolved into the harsh, jagged mountains of Peru. That too soon gave way to the arid and sweltering highlands in Chile.

The dragon circled before landing and one by one the monks hopped off his back. Clay tugged at the collar of his tee shirt, the heat already making him sweat. He glanced to see mountains in the distance while dunes and the occasional cluster of rocks dominated the foreground.

“What is it with hiding Shen Gong Wu in deserts?” Kimiko noticed. She’s lost count of how many times a Wu has been dug out of the sand – and sweated through her favorite shirts. “Where to now Dojo?” she turned to him.

“South. Definitely south,” Dojo tugged at his beard while shrinking back to size. He slithered over to Raimundo, whom picked him up accordingly. “It shouldn’t be that much of a hike. I’d say, oh I don’t know, ten minutes, fifteen at the most.” he insisted, draping himself over the monk’s shoulders.

Soon enough, fifteen minutes became twenty, which in turn became thirty as Dojo changed their course here and there. The monks didn’t complain of course; they’ve come to accept that Shen Gong Wu hunts were never going to be easy. The important thing was finding the Wu first before it fell into the wrong hands.

Unfortunately, as the monks reached forty minutes, Omi spotted a black jacket that belonged to a pair of wrong hands. He came to a screeching halt and then shifted into a fighting stance. “Jack Spicer!” he yelled.

The smile dropped from Jack’s face the moment he heard that little shrill voice calling his name. He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to acknowledge Omi with an exasperated sigh. “To think I was beginning to _enjoy_ my three-day weekend from you losers…” he frowned.

“Rest assured, the lack of you meddling in our business was no cherry pick in the park!” the monk snapped. He felt more confident when his friends arrived, shifting into their respective stances as well. “Hand over the Shen Gong Wu this instant!” Omi demanded.

“Jack will be handing you nothing,” a voice called behind the evil genius. Within the shadows of the rocks, a figure manifested with glowing red eyes. “Because after some… careful negotiations, I will be the one claiming ownership.” the figure stepped into the sunlight, revealing themselves to be no other than Chase Young.

Poised as ever, the warlord approached both parties with a single lion for protection. He smirked when seeing Omi visibly tense at the sight of him. But that dropped moments later when Chase noticed Clay.

“Bailey? Well isn’t this quite a surprise,” Chase crossed his arms, eyeing him from head to toe. His lips curled into a smirk once more, but there was suspicion behind it. “I knew I considered you a roach, but I didn’t think you would actually scuttle back like one.” he chuckled.

Clay growled in consequence; he would’ve pummeled the bastard right then if Raimundo hadn’t held him back. The Dragon of Wind released the grip on his friend’s arm and then stepped in front of him. “Look Chase, why don’t you do us all a favor and piss off?” he spat.

“And leave a bunch of poorly-trained monks in possession of a Shen Gong Wu they’re clearly not ready for? I don’t think so.” Chase frowned. He reached behind and pulled the Wu out in question, having to obtained it before anyone else could. “In addition to vanquishing great evil, the Wu Xing Shield also requires the utmost discipline from all **five** Xiaolin Dragons.” the warlord explained.

“Seeing as the Dragon of Metal has yet to reveal themselves,” Chase made a glance toward Jack before shifting his attention back to the monks again. He chucked the Wu over his shoulder, which his lion caught with fine precision. “It leaves you one short of an ensemble. A shame really; it would’ve balanced _the dead weight_ you’re carrying.” he grinned.

Another jab at the cowboy. Raimundo grabbed his arm for the second time, genuinely surprised how upset Clay was getting. “Easy, easy big guy! He’s just trying to egg you into doing something stupid. Don’t give him the satisfaction.” he warned.

Clay jerked his arm back and his nostrils flared with anger at Chase. In return, his opponent watched him silently, suspicion waning as the pieces came together. “The only eggin’ around these parts will be me scramblin’ that varmint’s brain.” he barked, cracking his knuckles.

“Clay, you’re never this aggressive, even with Chase.” Kimiko stood beside Raimundo, an eyebrow rising in concern. She glanced at Ping Pong and Omi, whom gathered close too. “We’re not going to let you face him alone. We’re not going to make that same mistake twice.” she said.

“Kimiko’s right. We’re not going to—” Ping Pong didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as out of the blue, Chase threw himself at the cowboy. He stumbled back in surprise and then watched as the pair rolled away clawing at each other. “Clay!” the monk cried.

The pair tumbled until Chase was on top of a hatless Clay, wringing his neck. Clay clenched his jaw and then grabbed the warlord’s wrists in attempt to pry them off. When that proved to be futile, he brought his leg up and slammed a boot into Chase’s chest, throwing him off.

Chase struck the ground with a hard thud. He immediately jumped back to his feet and shot Clay a venomous glare. With just the flick of his wrist, the warlord readied his collapsible spear and then charged at his opponent for a second time.

As soon as the pair tumbled away, the monks ran to help their friend. But their run was cut short when the ground heaved and Omi yelped when a drill suddenly burst at his feet. He stumbled back into Raimundo as the drill rose until the robot attached to it climbed out of the ground.

Several more popped out the ground like daisies; all painted to match the environment, but each one wielding a different set of equipment. Kimiko shifted into a defensive stance as the robots surrounded them. She glanced over her shoulder to see Jack laughing behind them.

“Did you guys seriously forget about **me**?” Jack lowered his wrist and grinned deviously. He couldn’t blame them really; watching Chase spring into action and kick some well-deserved butt was worthy enough for tickets. “Didn’t that old geezer of yours preach nonstop about **never** letting your guard down, _no matter what?_ ” he laughed.

The evil genius pointed an accusing finger at the monks and ordered his Sand-Bots to attack. He lowered his finger and then watched as the metallic chaos unfolded before him. “Once again, I am just astounded by my own villainy.” he crossed his arms with a content sigh.

Raimundo weaved left and right to prevent his face from being pureed by a Sand-Bot’s drill. When an opening came, he slammed a fist into the robot and then spun to deliver a powerful kick. “We don’t have time for this!” the monk growled, pulling out his Shen Gong Wu.

“Blade of the Nebula!” Raimundo swung the blade right and whipped the wind into a gale. Picking up sand and debris, the gale swept through a crowd of Sand-Bots, sandblasting them to pieces. He swung the blade left and created a whirlwind to wreak similar havoc.

“Shimo Staff!” Omi raised his Wu as the ice accumulated into a formidable staff. He batted Sand-Bots like they were houseflies, robots staggering away with fatal sparks and shattered motherboards. He ducked when a Sand-Bot tried making a swipe at him and then smacked its head off in retaliation.

Kimiko slammed her leg into a Sand-Bot, which spewed sparks and bolts in consequence. She made several flips to evade a string of claws, drills, and jackhammers then skidded to a halt. Her back bumped into Ping Pong’s and the pair exchanged a glance while robots began to surround them.

“Arrow Sparrow!” the monk lashed out and the small, handcrafted birds that made up her Wu ignited into flames. They sliced through the air with lighting speed and then pierced the Sand-Bots. The robots exploded and Ping Pong ducked for cover as flaming debris rained down on him.

When the smoke cleared and the dust finally settled, Jack was alarmed to see his latest creations had been reduced to scrap metal. He tugged on his collar and chuckled nervously as the victorious monks closed in on him. Once again, he had counted his chickens a little too early.

The evil genius was prepared to laugh the whole thing off as a misunderstanding before he dropped to his knees and beg for mercy. But in an unexpected twist, Chase’s lion jumped over him and roared at the monks, repelling them back. Jack blinked in surprise at the big cat coming to his defense and then smiled in triumph.

“Aw yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” Jack laughed as he strolled up to the lion. He reached to scratch behind the lion’s ear and then turned to the monks with a smug grin. “Too bad that cowboy of yours isn’t here. Now there’s a hunk of meat Simba can really sink his teeth into.” he grinned.

“Shit, _shit!_ ” Raimundo grabbed a fistful of his hair and immediately spun around to run. The monks followed suit as well, leaving Jack hollering for their attention in the dust. Amid evading Sand-Bots and turning them into a junk-pile, everyone had let Clay’s rumble with Chase slip from attention.

Now they were running as fast as they could to track the pair down again. Raimundo could feel his chest tightening with dread; he’d almost lost his friend once, he wasn’t going to let it happen again. Sliding down a dune, the monks were led to the right direction as Dojo picked up Clay’s scent.

Further guiding them were the blotches and streaks of blood that stained the ground. Bright red at first, the blood turned darker and darker the closer they got until it became all but pitch black. The monks came to an abrupt stop when reaching Chase and Clay, eyes widening in bewildered shock.

While poised even in battle, Chase stood out of breath with sweat drenching his brow and pain clear in his step. Blood dribbled from his shattered nose in a steady stream and his right eye swelled from a punch made of pure bedrock. Dried blood caked the tip of his spear while the bottom was matted in hair and black liquid.

Opposite of him stood Clay, who fared no better in their fight – if not even worse. Breath ragged and body drenched in sweat, the warlord’s spear had nicked him in several places. One hand was balled into a bruised and bloody fist while the other clutched the right side of his head, which Chase had cracked open like an egg.

Raimundo’s jaw dropped at the sight of his injured and bleeding friend. For the first time, he was seeing what Ping Pong had warned them repeatedly before. “What’s… What’s going on here?” he finally asked.

“Are you people that oblivious?” Chase turned to the monks with a frown, astounded by their ignorance. He then turned back to the cowboy and curled his lip in disgust. “I’m not fighting your lumbering oaf. Just a demon using his corpse for their own sick amusement.” he pointed.

“Believe me, I was almost fooled myself,” the warlord licked the blood from his lips. He started to move right, which prompted Clay to move left. “Until I realized it would take a miracle – if not something _evil_ – for a person even durable as Bailey to survive the wounds I inflicted.” Chase reasoned.

Kimiko looked at Chase and then looked at Clay, brow scrunching into a troubled frown. She waited for him to rebuke such an outlandish claim but the cowboy remained silent. Instead, he lowered the hand clutching his head, balling it into another fist, and shifted to defense as Chase lunged at him.

The monk shook her head couple of times and covered her mouth. She turned away from the brawl in front of her, mind drawing conclusions for herself. So this whole time – from Palmyra to Greece and everything in between – it wasn’t actually Clay, _but a demon?_

Her hand dropped from her mouth to clutch her chest then. She felt a chill sweep down her spine and she turned to see her friends were mortified too. Kimiko turned back to the brawl after hearing Chase utter a pained growl.

Nostrils flaring, Chase clenched his jaw as Clay squeezed his wrist to the point of fracture. Pieces of his spear laid scattered at his feet while cracks stood prominently against his polished armor. There was a hiss when the cowboy twisted his wrist a little, causing Chase to glare and then bare his fangs at him.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Clay finally spoke, lips curling into a cheeky grin. He caught the warlord’s second fist when it was thrown and then proceeded to crush his knuckles in retaliation. “So much fer all that hoopla ‘ya made. Guess someone bit off more than he could chew, eh mate?” he chuckled.

“At least I fight with my own strength, _instead of relying on others…!_ ” Chase pushed against the weight forcing him down and unbuckled his knees. He glanced to where he smashed Clay’s head open, blackness flowing in a steady stream. “That oaf’s body will only get you so far.” he spat.

“True, true, yer right about that mate.” Clay nodded while his accent continued to degrade. He applied more pressure to the warlord’s wrist. “But there’s enough time fer me to get things done before the rot sets in.” the cowboy smiled as he finally snapped Chase’s wrist.

Chase snarled at the pain searing through his body. He tried wiggling out of Clay’s grip but found himself trapped. _“You insolent piece of…!”_ he stopped short, nostrils flaring in anger.

The warlord pushed against Clay’s weight once more, refusing to buckle his knees again. It was bad enough a mere demon had gotten the best of him, but one using Clay Bailey as a puppet to do so? Now that was just humiliating.

“If you have things to accomplish, then why are you wasting your time on **me**?” Chase huffed. He pushed harder and brought himself closer to the cowboy’s bloody face. “You shouldn’t waste what little time you have on a petty squabble.” he grunted.

“On the contrary mate,” Clay squeezed Chase’s fist and then chuckled. He could smell the fear growing on Chase when he leaned in. “Yer right where I wantcha.” he admitted.

“Ya see, aside from the stuff I need to get done, there’s also the matter of tyin’ up some loose ends.” the cowboy explained. His grip tightened around Chase’s fist and he bared his canines then. _**“Too bad yer lil’ girl ain’t here to save ‘ya this time.”**_ Clay mocked.

It was then Clay licked his lips, before sinking his teeth into the flesh of Chase’s neck in one swift motion. Chase emitted a blood-curdling scream as his body immediately stiffened from the incredible pain that radiated from his ravaged throat. The cowboy twisted his head and ripped a chuck of flesh away, blood splattering across them both in consequence.

With a mouthful of flesh, Clay watched as Chase teetered away from him, bug-eyed and speechless. He started chewing while blood continued to spill from Chase’s neck like a broken faucet, blood staining his polished armor in long streaks. He swallowed and his lips curled into a little smile as the warlord tried to speak, his voice garbled with blood.

That should keep him busy – if it doesn’t kill him outright. The last thing he needed was this narcissistic asshole butting into his business. Lingering on Chase for a moment, Clay clutched his head and then turned with a groan.

As much as he would love to see Chase keel over, the cowboy was in no better shape himself. That whack on the head by Chase’s spear did some considerable damage. Not to mention the slashes that peppered his body and the exchange of fists before that as well.

Clay found his limbs growing heavy as the fatigue caught up with him. He staggered a couple of feet before he dropped to his knees and tumbled forward with a thud. Wheezing, he tried rising again but the strength wasn’t there to support his weight.

Muttering a swear, the cowboy begrudgingly accepted his fate. The last thing he heard were footsteps running toward him before slipping into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what a chapter! Guess Kimiko was right - something big did happen!
> 
> I apologize for being quiet most of the summer. I had outside obligations that left me little time to work on this story and my other ones. But now I have the time and schedule to pick up where I left off.
> 
> There's a shout out to DragonNutt's Wu Xing Shield in this chapter. Wu Xing Shield is an amazing story, I'd recommend wholeheartedly! 
> 
> In this chapter the monks are using their Wudai Weapons. I know my story has elements of Chronicles featured, but I always felt like the monks would diversify their use of Wu, like they kind of did in Showdown.
> 
> Feedback is welcomed!


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